


Not Used To The Cold

by chelsapeek



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Totally cliche, handjobs, james hates the cold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-25 23:00:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7550584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelsapeek/pseuds/chelsapeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short one shot. James and Thomas are travelling in a carriage up in New York during winter. James is cold so Thomas helps him warm up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Used To The Cold

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first jeffmads fic so i hope i did them justice. (Disclaimer: Yes I know Jefferson and Madison irl were awful people but i love daveed and oak so here you go)

            James was  _freezing_. He knew that New York winters could bad and, lord, he was used to Virginias heat. James was sure he was going to lose fingers if he didn't get near a fireplace soon.

 

            "Are you well?" Thomas asked him, the pair sitting inside the carriage that was taking them to their inn at the next city over. They both sat on the same far bench with their bags on the bench in front of them. Although the carriage doors were shut and the curtains drawn closed, the cold winter air still filled the small room.

 

            "Just fine." James replied, teeth chattering. "Awfully cold out, is it not? I do not think I remember a time when the air was this cold up here."

 

            "I believe you're correct." Thomas agreed with him, his heavy hand settling on James' knee. Even with the frigid temperatures, Thomas' hand was still a warm, comforting presence. "You know, I have an idea on how to keep you warm." Thomas told him softly, his hand traveling farther up James' thigh.

 

            James' breath caught in his throat. The only other place they had done this was in the privacy of Monticello, far away from any prying eyes. James knew what they did was a sin, and that it was against God, but he loved how Thomas' hands felt on his body. He loved Thomas.

 

            "The Coachman," James whispered as Thomas kissed his jaw, hand lying on the innermost part of James' thigh.

 

            "The wind is loud, he won't hear us." Thomas told him, and James was about to protest again when Thomas' hand began rubbing circles into his leg, fingers brushing against the bulge in his pants.

 

            James let Thomas pull him into a kiss, his hand coming up to rest on the lapel of Thomas' winter coat. Their noses bumped together awkwardly when the carriage jerked around on the rough road, and with Thomas' hand rubbing and groping at his crotch, James' breath became shorter.

 

            "Thomas," James moaned, their mouths pressed together, open and panting when Thomas pulled James onto his lap and began undoing the buttons on his breeches. James tried to do the same to Thomas, but his hands wouldn't stop shaking. If it was from the cold or the adrenaline that came from possibly being caught, he didn't know.

 

            Thomas laughed softly against James' mouth and undid his own pants, taking both of their hard cocks into his hand and jerking them both off. James kissed him again, his hands resting on either side of Thomas' face as they moaned into each other's mouths. Thomas' hand was hot around him, and James could feel himself sweating under his layers of clothing as he grinded into Thomas' hand, feeling the hard skin of Thomas' prick against his own.

 

            James and Thomas were no strangers to each other's bodies, having done this many times before. James loved the way Thomas' bare chest felt against his hands, how Thomas' mouth felt around his hardness, and especially when he was able to return the favor and listen to Thomas moan as he serviced him. They had even experimented penetrating each other with their fingers, as Thomas had discovered the act during his time in France. But James loved nothing more than Thomas holding him like this, an arm around his back pressing them close as Thomas pleasured both of them. It drove James crazy, how beautiful Thomas was in moments like this, when all they knew of each other was equal pleasure and love. 

 

            Thomas' hand felt wonderful, and soon James was gripping the cloak around Thomas' shoulders and tipping his head back as he came with gritted teeth, trying not to shout. Thomas' hand didn't let up as he came soon after, letting out a breathy moan of James' name.

 

            Breathing heavy, Thomas took the handkerchief out of his pocket and cleaned up the mess they had both made. James slowly got off of Thomas' lap and sat back down next to him, trying to regain his composure as he tucked himself back into his pants.

 

            "How do you feel now?" Thomas asked him, kissing his ear. James smiled gently.

 

            "Very warm, thank you, Thomas." James laughed, turning his head to kiss Thomas again, Thomas wrapping his arm around James' body and pulling him closer. "We can't look like this when we get out," James told him, implying their rumpled clothes and flushed faces.

 

            "We have the upwards of another two hours." Thomas told him, resting his forehead against the side of James' head. "We have time to become situated."

 

            "Very well, then." James complied, letting Thomas hold him for a while longer. With Thomas holding him the cold wasn't as bad as it had been before, and James wondered if Thomas would sleep in the same bed with him when they got to the inn.  _There is time to talk about that_ , James decided as he closed his eyes and listened to the wind whip around the carriage outside. Perhaps they could visit New York in the winter more often, he thought with a smile.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


End file.
